


Pannkakor

by ScarletteStar1



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Erotica, F/M, Feelings, Kitchen Sex, Oral Sex, porn no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 16:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18814690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: Jakob makes Jean a traditional Swedish breakfast, but things take a not-so-traditional turn in the kitchen.





	Pannkakor

Jean followed the aroma of melted butter, vanilla, and sugar to the kitchen.

“Here you are,” she said. Jakob turned from the stove. “I woke and you weren’t in bed.”

“I was hungry,” he grinned. “You make me very hungry.”

Jean looked down as she smiled. “It smells delicious,” she offered. “What are you making?”

“ _Pannkakor_ ,” Jakob answered and turned back to the stove so he could flip a thin, golden disc on his frying pan. It sizzled as the uncooked side came into contact with the hot, greased skillet and at this noise, Jakob wiggled in triumph. “Traditional Swedish pancake,” he explained and looked back over his shoulder at Jean.

“And do you always cook in the nude?”

“ _Ja_ , I do when my daughters are not at home, and guess what, they are not at home. You could be nude also, Jean, if you like, although you look very nice in my shirt.” He wagged his eyebrows at Jean, who laughed back at him. She had pulled on one of his shirts and it was so big on her, it came down nearly to the middle of her thighs. He returned his attention to the pan and scooped the perfectly cooked pancake off and plopped it on a warming plate in the oven. “Coffee is over there,” he nodded in the direction of the coffee pot. Jean found a mug and then helped herself to the coffee. There was a carton of cream already out on the counter and she used it before hopping up on the counter to watch Jakob cook.

“So, you know how to make things other than soup?” She asked over the rim of her cup.

“I had to figure out how to feed my girls when their mother was sick. I watched some shows and bought some cookbooks and I discovered it was actually enjoyable. That soup I made for you? I used to make that for the girls, and for my wife, when they were sick. It was one of the few things that my wife could tolerate during her illness.”

“Oh,” Jean considered this information. Jakob dropped another pat of butter into the pan, swirled until it melted and sizzled, then poured a dollop of batter onto the hot surface. He swirled this around on the pan until it was just a thin layer and set the pan on the burner for it to cook. He looked at Jean, who was perched on the counter, intently staring into her coffee.

“Relax, Jean,” he said softly.” He approached her and found his way between her legs. He stroked her cheek and took her hand. “It was just soup; not a proposal of marriage or anything.”

“I’m relaxed,” Jean mumbled with a little toss of her head.

“Okay, then, good,” Jakob said. “But just so you know, I can hear it when those gears in your brain start cranking. They are noisy enough for me to hear all the way on the other side of the house.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so,” he rubbed his nose on hers and nipped at her bottom lip. “Did I mention I am hungry?”

“You did,” Jean sighed. She put her coffee down on the counter and put her arms around Jakob’s shoulders. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist and she surrendered to his kiss. “Your pancake is going to burn,” she whispered onto his tongue.

“ _Pannkakor_ ,” he tongued into her mouth and rucked the shirt she wore up so he could roll her breast in his palm like a silky ball of dough. He lowered his head to kiss in between her breasts, over hear heart, and then he took the nipple of the breast he held between his lips. Jean’s fingers kneaded the bare flesh of his back and she gasped as he bit her, rather hard, and soothed the overly sensitive skin of her nipple with his breath and tongue. Jean felt his stiffening cock against her thigh and threw her head back as she groaned. She glanced over to see breakfast glowering at her in the pan.

“Jakob,” she said. “At least turn the stove off. You’ll start a fire or set off the smoke alarms.”

“So let it,” he growled, but he twisted from her to go to the stove. He took the pan from the burner and turned it off. His erection bounced as he hurried back to her. “ _Hungrig_ ,” he muttered and dipped two fingers into a bowl of whipped cream. He smeared the cream over Jean’s lips, over her chin, then down her neck. Surprised, Jean opened her mouth, but only to have it devoured by Jakob. He licked the cream from her lips and chin and then bit her neck as she spread her legs and clutched the edges of the counter with her fingers splayed. He began to angle himself at her opening, ready to take her there on the counter of his kitchen.

Suddenly, Jean was hungry too. Famished, in fact. She pushed Jakob from her and hopped off of the counter. In a moment of lusty abandon, she tore his shirt from her nubile frame and threw it on the floor. His eyes widened at the sight of her, naked in his kitchen. She felt the energy of his desire, felt he longed to sink to his knees and lick her sticky slit, but she’d not allow it. With an even pressure, her hands stroked down his warm, golden torso as she sank to her knees before him. She glanced up to find he’d thrown his head back and he smiled at the ceiling. Jean teased his thighs, inside and out, with her fingertips, noting his cock pulsated happily before her face. Knowing he’d be almost torturously aroused, she clutched his shaft firmly in her fist and milked a shiny pearl of his seed up to his tip. When she looked up now, she found his eyes gazing down on her, adoringly, expectantly. Slowly, and without breaking eye contact with him, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, just a little bit. She made a small show of licking her lips and then the corners of her lips curled up in a smile as she felt his legs quiver and his skin ripple with excitement. Still looking up at him, she dragged her tongue over the top of his head and through his leaking slit.

Jakob moaned, deep and guttural, and he brought his hands to Jean’s hair, but only gently. He waited with commendable patience until at last she rewarded him by wrapping her mouth around his eager cock and sliding over it until she’d taken as much of it as she could and wrapped her hand around the rest. She set a slow pace and moderate pressure upon his manhood, wondering if it was possible he tasted of melon, warm and fresh from a summer garden. The thought elicited a surge of wetness between her legs and she used her other hand to finger herself as she worked over him. She swirled her tongue around the sensitive skin on the underside of his cock, close to the ridge of his head and Jakob cried out in a pleasured way that she figured meant he was close. She tongued him this way again, prepared to feel him release in her mouth, ready and willing and wanting to take and taste all he had, but he pushed her mouth from him.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You can come in my mouth. I want you to.”

“That’s not what I want,” Jakob panted and sank to the floor next to Jean. He sought her mouth as he pulled her to sit astride his thick cock. Jean sank down on him and gave herself just a moment to adjust to his size before she started to ride him. “This is what I want,” he purred and slid his hand down to get at her clit. It wasn’t long before Jean was scratching Jakob’s back, gasping and crying out as she shattered around him. As soon as he felt her climax, he gave a final thrust and came with a delighted groan, deep inside of her. Jean collapsed on top of him and he stroked her back and ass for a few moments as they caught their breath. When he softened and slipped out of her, he patted her and said, “Now we eat _pannkakor_.”

They sat at the table in the nude and ate breakfast and drank coffee.

“These are delicious,” Jean said around a bite loaded with berries and cream.

“I like to watch you eat my cooking,” Jakob said and smiled impishly. “You are very sexy when you eat.”

“And you are a very good cook,” Jean said. “I’ve never had a man cook for me before.”

“I think I will cook for you often, if only to watch you eat,” Jakob glanced down at his crotch and Jean’s eyes followed to find that he was already hard again. She almost choked on the coffee she was sipping as she laughed.

“Your cooking isn’t the only commendable thing in this kitchen, Jakob,” she said. “I must say, your stamina is also quite applaudable.” She stood up and kissed the side of his neck then walked back toward the bedroom. Jakob got up and followed her back to bed. The dishes could definitely wait until later.


End file.
